Dead Rising
by Opalecent
Summary: 4 friends wake on the morning of the beginning of the end. Follow their story as they attempt to survive, as well as maintain their humanity along the way. Does not follow DotD at all, and all characters are original creations.


This is my first attempt at writing first person, advice would be much appreciated!

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Early morning light filtered in through the cracks in the blinds and the instant headache reminded me why I rarely indulge in the joys of alcoholic beverages: hangovers. One would think with my irish blood I'd never get them, but two drinks in and I'm trashed and always wake up with a symphony of construction workers in my head.

I opened my eyes to find them dry and blurry, realizing all too late that I'd fallen into bed the previous night without removing my contact lenses. I tumbled out of bed, feeling around lamely for the wall that connected with the master bath. I found my lens case on the counter and peeled the dry contacts from my eyes, donning my purple plastic framed glasses.

I studied myself in the mirror for a moment and sighed. The auburn hair I'd spent an hour working to straighten the day before was now a fuzzy mess, and I faintly remembered running into the house in a downpour the night before. Apparently I'd managed to strip out of most of my clothes, leaving myself in a light pink tank and black underwear. I pulled a pair of pj's off the bathroom floor and stepped into them, knowing I'd probably only worn them once or so before they were dropped unceremoniously on the floor as I fumbled into the shower some early morning before work.

Back in my room, I found my nylons on the floor, and the door gaping open. Out the door and into the hallway I found my blouse, and at the top of the stairs were my skirt and one high heeled black pump. At the bottom in the kitchen, the match to said pump, and a navy blue blazer. Thinking about it, I'm amazed I even managed to make it up the stairs and into my bed.

A sound in the living room caught my attention and I tiptoed around the corner. On the floor in the front of the tv, two bodies laid curled around each other. Amy was snoring slightly, her blonde hair falling softly around her head on Carl's chest. Carl was spread eagle, one ebony arm under Amy's slight frame. It would have made for an amazing office rumor, if Carl wasn't hopelessly gay. Damn shame too, the man was absolutely gorgeous.

A leg twitched on the couch above them, where Dave was sleeping. I laughed quietly, not at all surprised that the one sober person took advantage of the drunks and took the only full length couch. Sammie, my german shepard, sat on the chair in front of the window, growling through slightly parted curtains, no doubt staring at some unseen squirrel.

"We'll go for a walk later, I promise." I whispered, slipping back into the kitchen. I padded lightly over the chilled tile, bouncing slightly and shivering, as if the less I touched the floor, the faster it would warm up. I knew that the tile would warm quickly if I opened the kitchen curtains and let in the early morning sun, but my brain was not ready for that amount of light. I started some coffee, popped a bagel down in the toaster, and pulled down a bottle of extra strength tylenol.

The coffee began to brew and I flipped on the tv, confused when I was met with only static. I flipped through the channels, each one offering only snow. I sighed, figuring the cable probably went out in the rain last night. Maybe there was wind? Only sporadic rain was called for, and it was supposed to taper off through the night and lead way to a sunny summer day, but I was drunk, so of course I didn't remember. My laptop was on the counter so I opened it up, and discovered with irritation that the internet was out as well. I slammed it shut with a huff, flopping down on one of the bar stools and sighing. I heard a rustle in the living room; one of my friends was stirring.

Fragments of the previous days events flipped around in my head. We'd been at the office most of the day, without a single call. Over half of the office was out with the flu, and damn near half the city had it was well. It was practically impossible to run a travel agency with 4 people, and it was pointless anyway. Not a single call all week. So, being the office manager, I declared a holiday. I sent us all "home", and decided we'd take the weekend off. Mr. Flinky, the boss, was out with the flu as well, and would never know that we weren't all sick as well. The four of us went out to the bar, a smokey little place out in the boonies, not far from my house. Dave, the designated driver, brought us all back to my place once the bar closed, where we watched one of those zombie flicks before I had climbed up the stairs and passed out.

Amy stumbled in, running her fingers through her slick blonde hair. Even in a rumpled state, the woman was the epitome of beauty. Tall, filled out in all the right places, perfectly golden skin, with high cheekbones and blue eyes that matched a tropical ocean.

"Morning Cam. Is that coffee I smell?" She asked, rubbing her temples lightly. I nodded, trying to fiddle with the tv again. Dave and Carl shuffled in moments later, the smell of coffee having pulled them from their slumbers. In the living room, Sammie was still growling out the window. I pulled down four cups and poured some for everyone, giving up on the tv and tuning it off.

Carl rubbed his head and sipped his coffee, wincing slightly as he sat down. "Remind me next time we decide to go drinking, to stop after 3 screwdrivers." Dave clapped him lightly on the back, grinning like a cheshire. "I don't think it was the screwdrivers that did it, more like the half a bottle of jeger you drank to yourself."

Carl smirked, followed by another wince. "I was trying to drink until that dark haired redneck was hot. Didn't work..." Dave looked around the kitchen, rolling his eyes as the dog growled again."Why is it so quiet in here?"

I shrugged, nodding over at the tv as I munched on the bagel. My stomach was happy to have something in it. "Cable's out. Internet too. Must have been some wind last night." Dave squinted, tilting his head to the side. "I don't remember any wind..." On the opposite counter sat my radio, and Dave fiddled with it until he found a working station. There was a moment of static, and then a monotonous emergency broadcast.

"Stay in your homes. Do not come in contact with the infected. Do no attempt to contact loved ones. Wait for help to come." The broadcast was interrupted, there was a slight screech, and a real voice came on the air. "Hey everyone, this is DJ Shay, and I've been listening to that broadcast for about 3 hours now, and I figured I'd give you some info that might actually keep you alive. Stay away from the infected: which means, anyone bitten or scratched, put a bullet in their heads. That's right I said bitten. You all remember that flu that hit about 3 weeks ago? Well anyone who came down with it is dead. But that's not the best part. A few minutes after death, they got up and started walking again. And they sure as hell are hungry. Not to mention fast. Way fast. Only way to take 'em down is a bullet in the brain, or other more gruesome methods; smash the skull, decapitation, whatever suits you."

"Now my biggest piece of advice, get the fuck out of the city. No help is coming. Gather up what supplies you can, and get as far away from population as you can. As far as I know, Joint Base Ft. Lewis-Mccord is still a safe zone, and if anyone else knows of a safe or overrun area, give me a call an let me know. And, if anyone finds themselves in Seattle, do come get me. Whoops, I just heard something outside, you guys and gals enjoy the music while I go check it out."

An old Johnny Cash came on the radio, and I recognized it as "Ring of Fire". The kitchen was silent. A few growls came from the living room, and Dave, visibly shook up, lost it a bit. "Will you shut that dog up?"

A shaking at my feet drew my attention down. At some point Sammie had moved between my legs and lay there cowering, when I really don't know. My head came back up slowly, and my eyes met Dave's. I'm sure I must have looked absolutely terrified. "It's not Sammie. She's right here."

All heads turned as one to the living room, to the front window that Sammie had been barking at. The sound of shattering glass hit my ears at the same time as the terrifying scream.

She was in the walkway within seconds. Gray hair, bare feet, a once yellow nightgown now stained red. Her face was a mask of red, a bloody chunk of meat dangling from her mouth. She moved faster than we could react. She tackled Dave, sending him flying onto his back. Amy screamed as she ran out the kitchen and up the stairs, while Dave struggled with the old woman on top of him, holding her arms away from him and using his knees to keep her face away from his body.

Carl rushed behind her and tried peeling her off of him as she bit and snapped at any flesh within reach, only to end up on his ass as her flailing knocked him backwards. Dave was shouting something as I stood stunned, unable to move. Dave's shouts finally broke through my fog and I stumbled forward, before realizing I had no clue what to do.

"Shoot her! Shoot her! God dammit O'Malley, shoot the bitch!"

_"O'Malley, who the fuck is O'Malley?"_ I thought, and looked around frantically. I didn't own a gun, not a single weapon actually. Something black caught my attention and I dove for it. Hanging above the stove, a set of brand new, barely used cast iron pans. I pulled the largest one down and turned, yelling at Carl to move. I hefted it for a moment, before swinging wildly at her head. The first connection did nothing, barely jarring her from her pursuits. I swung it again, this time knocking her back. She started to get back up, and with both hands, I brought it down a final time; her skull flattening with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered the walls and cabinets around me, coating my face and neck.

I stood over her, panting, my body shaking, knuckles white around the handle of the pan. Dave was on his hands and knees, and Carl was pulling himself up off the floor. My stomach began to churn, and I dropped the pan before doubling over and retching, the coffee and partially digested bagel spilling onto the tile. Somewhere in my mind I heard Carl say he was going to look for Amy, but all I could hear was the woman's screams, Dave yelling at me to shoot her.

And then Dave was there, standing next to me, pulling me up and into his arms. Tears spilled down my cheeks, streaking through the splatters of blood drying on them. He was rubbing my head, shushing me, trying to calm me. He was talking, and once the sobs stopped, I was able to hear him.

"I'm sorry Cam, so, so sorry. I regressed. I was back in Iraq. You never should have had to do that, I should have taken care of it." I pulled back, wiping the tears with the back of my hand, before realizing I was probably just smearing the blood more.

"Who's O'Malley?" I asked, pulling a kitchen towel down from the hook hanging above the sink and wetting it to wash my face. Dave sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly unwilling to talk about it. "He was in my unit. Good kid. I made it home, he didn't."

Carl came down the stairs with an unconscious Amy in his arms, effectively ending any chance I had to learn about Dave's military past. All we knew was that he'd been discharged, how or why was a mystery. He practically refused to talk about his time in the service.

I quickly cleared my small dining table, pushing the various dishes and papers onto the floor so Carl could lay Amy down. I pulled a cushion from one of the bar stools, placing it gently under her head. There was a bruise forming right at her hairline and I began to worry.

"It looked like she fainted while running up the stairs. She was unconscious half way up." Carl said, wetting another towel to lay over her head. I looked up from where Amy was laying, realizing Dave had disappeared. I ran into the living room and found him standing before the now gaping hole in my house, peering through the fluttering curtains.

"I don't see anyone else out there, but we need to get this window covered up." he said, turning to look at me.

"You can take the doors off of the bathrooms and bedrooms, use them to board it up. The shed out back should have some nails and hammers left over from when my dad built the fence." Dave nodded and we went back to the kitchen, where Amy was waking up. Dave cautiously went on his way to the shed while Carl and I helped Amy down from the table. She saw the body on the ground and began to shake.

"What happened? Why did she attack him?" she asked, her normally golden skin a now ghostly pallor. I shrugged, just as confused as she.

"Her name is June Winters. She lived across the street from me. She came down with the flu about 2 weeks ago. I just saw her yesterday when I dropped off a few days worth of soup for her. Her husband died 3 years ago, and her only son Andrew lives in Colorado with his wife and kids. He called and asked me to keep an eye on her. The thing is, even before getting sick, she could barely move without her walker. She'd been practically bedridden since day one of the flu. How the hell did she break that window and pin down Dave like that?"

"I dunno, but we need to move that body, it's gonna start to smell as soon as it heats up in here." Dave said, having returned from the shed. In one hand he held a tool bag, the other held an ax. "I found this out there, could come in handy."

I looked down at the body and shuddered at the thought of having to touch it. I ran up the stairs and pulled a blanket from my bed, bringing it back down to cover the old woman with. I handed it to Dave, unable to do it myself. He nodded his understanding and covered her up, lifting her near weightless frame easily. Carl slid open the back sliding door and Dave laid her down in the grass gently, keeping her as covered as possible.

We all stood around her, unsure of what to do or say. I listened intently for any sounds of movement outside the yard, but heard nothing. I knew the neighbors to my left were on vacation, and the couple to the right would have left for work earlier in the morning. As for the rest of the neighborhood, the silence was petrifying. June had been... _eating_ something, or someone, so there had to be someone else in the quiescent houses.

We went back inside and I closed the curtains on the glass door, trying to block out the sight of the once genial, now horrendous old woman lying in my yard. Back in the living room Carl and Dave were covering the shattered remains of the window, each whack of the hammer like a whip cracking in the dead air. Amy was on the couch, Sammie's head in her lap, trying futilely to call her parents. I rummaged through my purse to find my own phone, and to my dismay was met with absolutely no reception.

I sat down next to Amy who turned to look at me, her beautiful face full of worry. "You have blood on your face."

I nodded numbly and rubbed at the now dry patches on my skin. Carl and Dave finished with the window and went around to check the rest of the entrances before joining us again in the kitchen. It was eleven, only an hour since we'd woken up. Amy's stomach rumbled and she flinched.

"I can't believe I'm actually hungry right now." she said, but the boys seconded her.

"Eat anything you want." I said, grabbing a cereal bar out of a cabinet. I didn't think I could eat much more at that point. The others did the same, and we sat in silence. It was a few minutes before Dave, finished with his bar, spoke up.

"We need to come up with a plan." We just stared at him, waiting for him to take control of the situation. "Gather up all non-perishable foods, water, and any weapons." he said, turning to me.

"Food and water I have, but I'm fresh out of weapons." I said, nibbling on my cereal bar. He sighed and ran his hands through his short hair. "You don't have any guns?"

"Nope."

"What about a bow, I thought you said you were going bow hunting in a few weeks." I laughed and shook my head, the sound hollow in light of recent events. "No, that's my brother. He was teaching me to use it, but I'd only tried a few times."

"I thought you said you were good at it?" Dave asked, obviously losing patience.

"I did, and I am, but that didn't mean I was gonna go out and blow $175 on some weapon I was probably never going to use. I haven't shot a gun my grandpa took me when I was like 10, and I didn't think I'd have the ability to kill an animal, so what was the point?"

Dave groaned and looked around. "Well then what do we have?" I picked up the pan off the ground, sucking in a breath at the sight of the dried blood on the bottom. "This worked pretty well." I said, placing it on the table. "You found that ax outside. There is a metal baseball bat under my bed upstairs. And... um... Oh! There's a cast iron fire poker next the fireplace."

"A fire poker? That's your idea of a weapon?" Carl asked, and I reached over and smacked his arm lightly. "Anyone else have any better ideas?" None came, so Dave nodded.

"Well lets gather those, and any food and water we can take. My car's pretty small-"

"Oh! Roger's explorer is still in the garage." I interrupted, realizing all too late that I slipped "Roger" into that sentence.

"Roger?" Amy asked, her eyes wide. I scratched my head and grinned sheepishly.

"Uh yeah, he left it and some other things when he moved out, and I figured, you know, it could come in handy if my car ever broke down, and hey I was right!"

Carl shook his head, giving me disapproving look. They'd never liked Roger, and were proven right when he left me for some big chested model in California.

"Ookay then, we can take the Explorer, its big enough for all of us and supplies. We need any medicine you have, and some spare clothes. Carl and I are out of luck there-"

"Uh, Roger left some clothes too. They might fit you."

Carl literally face palmed, and I ducked my head below my arms. Dave just threw his hands in the air before standing. "Lets get to it then. I'm gonna check the shed one more time for anything useful."

Amy started digging through the cabinets, careful to avoid the blood splatters and the rather large pool in front of the door leading to the garage. She found my unused stash of reusable shopping bags and began filling the canned and dry foods with them. Carl and I went upstairs where he dug through the back of my closet, pulling out any clothes that might fit him and Dave. I pulled out the metal bat, and my duffel and backpacks, taking one to the bathroom to gather up toiletries, medicines, and my little first aid kit.

After just a few short hours we had filled the Explorer with everything that would fit, including Sammie's dog food. I had argued with Dave for a quite some time, before he finally gave in. There was no way I was leaving Sammie. He was sitting on the couch, grumbling about my "useless dog". We all agreed we would wait to leave until morning, and that each one of us would get in a shower before. We were sure it would all blow over and we'd be safe at the military base, but still, who knew when we'd get to shower again.

We spent the rest of the day in remote silence, occasionally turning on the radio to see how DJ Shay was doing. Those who were able to get reception were calling in, informing listeners of safe areas, and hot spots to avoid. We turned it off after one man called, and moments later was overtaken. The sounds of his dying screams would haunt me forever.

Dave and Carl insisted on taking turns watching through the night, letting Amy and I sleep. She and I curled together in my bed, Sammie at our feet, and I remember her crying silently into my shoulder before I drifted off to a dreamless sleep.


End file.
